


Fingerprints All Over This Heart of Mine

by AndroidPalindrome



Series: Overwhelmed in Overwatch [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a prompt that I butchered, Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex as a form of self-harm, headcanon heavy, implied/referenced eating disorder, mild Codependency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:12:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7996468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndroidPalindrome/pseuds/AndroidPalindrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Morrison falls off a ledge he's been teetering on for over thirty years; it's up to Gabriel Reyes to move on from the past and catch him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingerprints All Over This Heart of Mine

“ You’re doing it again, Jack.”

 

Soldier 76 visibly winced at the familiar, unexpected voice, and the bruises on his bare back seemed to blossom at the tense rippling of the muscles underneath.

 

“ What are you doing here, Reaper?”

 

Reaper was silent as he stripped and folded his coat, wondering if Jack could sense his eyes scanning the room underneath the protective black and white polymer of his mask. The cheap yet clean hotel room was dark outside of the moonlight streaming through the now open window, and despite the actions that had just taken place mere minutes ago, the only signs of disarray were the soiled and ripped sheets on the bed and the equally battered man sitting on top of them, clad in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and an assorted mix of drying fluids that had Gabriel gagging at the thought.

 

_Fuck. **Fuck.**_

****

“ Heard you were in town—thought I’d drop in and say hello.” Reaper didn’t even try to mask the concern in his voice as he tossed his coat over the back of a nearby chair. “ I’d have said hi sooner, but I didn’t want to… _interrupt_ , so to speak.”

 

Jack’s head and shoulders slumped in defeat, and the sight had Gabriel’s reconstructed heart twisting up in knots. “ Go away, Reyes. Find someone else to mock.”

 

 _Like I would fucking mock you for something like this_ —is what Gabriel _felt_ like saying, but the tremulousness of his former lover’s voice stole the words from his mouth, and he made quick work of removing his mask and gloves and sat them on a nearby table. He had hoped it wouldn’t be that bad.

 

“ For God’s sake, Jack, I’m not your enemy. Not right now.” Nor was he ever. No matter how much he faked hating Jack Morrison—no matter how much he honestly _tried_ to—the attempt only left him feeling aching and hollow on the inside, and even the mask of the bitter, jealous, revenge-driven vigilante made him feel like a washed-out rag, especially at the sight of those familiar, bewildered, betrayed blue eyes during their first post-death encounter. And now? He could tell he’d worn his mask for far too long. “ Now stop dodging my question and tell me what’s going on here.”

 

Jack sighed and dug his nails into his arms, and Gabriel had to resist the urge to dash over and wrench them apart. “ I dunno, why don’t you tell me, Gabo? You were the one listening outside of my window all night.”

 

 _Fuck_ , the thought made anger and shame boil in Reaper’s gut, because it was absolutely true. Despite his feigned antagonism for the sake of infiltrating Talon and hunting down every last rat bastard that brought Overwatch to ruin, he always tried to keep tabs on Soldier 76, if only to make sure he was safe and not shot to shit in some abandoned building somewhere (a scenario that wasn’t unthinkable for the reckless idiot). A tip from a local Talon agent (that he subsequently executed) sent him to a nearby hotel, and Gabriel had only intended to ghost up to the window outside of the room, make sure his Jack was still in one piece, and promptly fade away before someone saw him and called the cops.

 

The window had been closed and curtained, but it hadn’t kept Reaper from hearing the sounds of four men the moment his armored boots solidified and touched the windowsill. One Jack, the rest three random fucks that he’d probably grabbed outside of some seedy bar in town, and the noises they were making had left near nothing to the imagination. Once the shock had bled from his body, he’d _stayed_ , rooted to the spot as he listened to Jack’s pained whimpers and sobs, and the vile, disgusting words spewed by the other three occupants had Reaper digging his metal talons into the shoddy brick of the wall, resisting the urge to break though the window, shoot everything that wasn’t Jack, and carry the soldier away in his arms (as cliché as it sounded).

 

If only it had been that simple. If Soldier 76, in that moment, had been the victim of violent gang rape, then there wouldn’t have been any hesitation; Gabriel would have shot first, asked questions later, and ground those three scumfuckers into meaty paste within five minutes. Gabriel knew better, though, because he’d seen this kind of shit before—so many times during his younger years in the SEP program—and he knew full and well that the violent, degrading, demoralizing sex Jack was having at that very moment was _exactly_ what he’d asked and paid for.

 

 _God-fucking-damn-it all to hell,_ he should’ve known this shit would happen if he’d stayed away.

 

“ How many times, Jack?”

 

“ Huh?” Soldier 76 jolted and turned his head to look at Gabriel, and the defeated, hollow look in his eyes made Gabriel’s insides crawl. “ What do you mean?”

 

“ You know exactly what I mean, _pendejo_ —how many times have you done this shit in the past six years?”

 

Jack’s eyes filled with shame, and he turned away from Gabriel with a bitter chuckle, shoulders sagging even further. He didn’t say a word.

“ Christ, Jack.” It was all Gabriel could do to keep his voice level, but no amount of willpower could keep his hands from trembling. In three strides he’d crossed the room and moved to kneel in front of Jack, who was curling into himself and avoiding his gaze, almost as if he’d expected some sort of physical punishment for his actions. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, if Gabriel hadn’t been sick to his stomach before, he sure was then. “ Why are you _doing_ this again?” It was a rhetorical question; Gabriel was pretty sure the answer was the same as last time, and it made him hate himself all the more. “ Have things gotten that bad?” _Have they always been this bad and I was just too much of a self-centered jackass to notice it?_

 

“ Why do you even care?” Jack’s nails dug deeper into his arms. “ If you’re going to kill me, then do it already. You’d even get the satisfaction of knowing how pathetic I really am before pulling the trigger.”

 

“ _For fuck’s sake, Jack!”_ Reaper’s already thin patience snapped in two, and he shot forward before the other man could react, wrapping his dark hands around pale wrists and yanking them forward. Soldier 76’s nails were bitten to the quick and bloody, and the sight of the thin trails of blood oozing from the shallow puncture marks on his arms made Reaper see red.

 

“ Gabriel—“

 

“ If I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t have wasted my fucking time talking to you in the first place, you moron!” Gabriel was in full-blown snarl mode, and he gave Jack’s hands a rough shake, not wanting to scare him but also not knowing what else he could do to reach him. “ I would’ve just capped you in the back of the head, and you know it, so stop trying to fucking hide! You can’t hide from me, Jack, and you know that! You’ve _never_ been able to hide from me.”

 

Jack’s breathing stuttered. “ Gabo…I…” Finally, _finally_ he was looking at Gabriel, and his wide, tired eyes were just as blue as they’d been six years before. _Dios mio,_ Gabriel thought, _how can this man still be so beautiful after all of these years?_

“ You don’t have to hide from me, Jack. You don’t have to run anymore. So just talk to me…like you used to do…like we should’ve been doing this whole fucking time instead of playing cops and robbers.”

 

Something seemed to break in Jack at those words, and he screwed his eyes shut and slumped forward, wrists trembling in Gabriel’s hold. “ Gabi—“

 

“ Jack.” Another shake. “ _Stop._ ”

 

A little whimper escaped Jack’s throat, and suddenly Gabriel was back in his room at the SEP program, pinning his sunshine against a wall, shaking him by the shoulders because he’s so full of frustration and fear and fucking _fed up_ with Jack dodging the elephant in the room. The memory made him drop the other man’s wrists ( _because he remembered how panicked Jack looked when he accidentally thwacked him against the wall, and Gabriel swore on his abuelita’s grave that he’d never make him feel so small and weak again_ ) in favor of reaching up to cup the pale face in his darker hands.

 

“ Sunbeam…” Gabriel whispered, ragged thumbs stroking the jagged edges of Jack’s cheekbones.

 

A dam seemed to break in Soldier 76 at the familiar nickname, and the old, grizzled war veteran _sobbed_ in aching relief, sliding onto the floor and letting himself be bundled into the arms of what had once been his sworn enemy. Embracing his lover after six long years made Gabriel’s throat constrict and his brown-and-red eyes moist, and it was so _tempting_ to simply let the tears flow and fall into Jack in turn, even if it was on the floor of a hotel room that smelled like sex and dried blood. He resisted, because Soldier 76 was worryingly thin and drowning in dark waters that Reaper had hoped he’d never swim into again, and he needed a lifeguard more than a diving partner. So Gabriel cradled him close and nosed his tousled hair ( _no longer blonde, but still so soft and shining, like the moon reflecting starlight)_ interspacing soft, comforting Spanish with kisses peppered all over his cheeks, jaw, forehead, and temples, which made the weeping man almost boneless in his hold.

 

On reflection—something he couldn’t help but do as he comforted Jack—it had been stupid of Reaper to think that the other man would’ve been okay after all the shit that went down in Zurich and Overwatch. Combine the weight of the Fall with the guilt he must have harbored over Gabriel’s supposed ‘death’ and the cataclysmic implosion of their relationship, as well as the complete lack of any support system after faking his death, and… _Jesus._ Soldier 76’s emotional and mental state would have been as bad as it was when he first arrived in basic training all those years ago: back and brain covered with literal and figurative bruises from his father’s fists, thin and unwilling to eat due to his mother’s neglect, and full of so much anxiety and self-hatred that all his did was blame and want to punish himself.

 

Of course, the problem with such self-destructive ideations was the fact that the higher-ups in the SEP program were notorious for kicking out any recruit with self-harming behaviors, along with anyone that had a mental health issue serious enough to “jeopardize their performance on the battlefield”. As such, while Jack was able to hide his disordered eating as long as he ate enough to stay above the minimum body weight limit, he couldn’t risk physically harming himself for fear of being forced out of the program he’d fought tooth and nail to be accepted to.

 

So Jack Morrison—being too goddamned clever for his own good—found another way make himself hurt.

 

It hadn’t taken long for Gabriel Reyes—former major in the Green Berets, career military, and hopelessly in love with his roommate and best friend—to notice that something was off with said major crush. To most of the recruits and superiors, Jack Morrison was the golden-haired, blue-eyed, confident-yet-shy, and cocky-yet-inspiring soldier that left the base on weekends and came back with a stray bruise here, a laceration there, and/or an occasional limp in his step. Upon questioning, all he would do was blush and stutter weak excuses, and everyone but Reyes was content to laugh it off as him “enjoying kinky fuckery” and joke about how “the vanilla boy from Indiana liked it rough”.

 

They didn’t live with Jack like he had, though, so they never heard and saw what Gabriel witnessed Sunday nights, during which he’d force himself to stay awake to make sure his roommate got back to base safe and pretend to sleep when he entered the room. They didn’t hear Jack drag himself through the door looking rode hard and put up wet. They didn’t hear him quietly lock himself in the bathroom and stay in the shower for an hour, sobbing loudly enough to be heard over the running water. They didn’t watch through the dim light of the bare window as the golden boy curled up in bed—dripping wet and clad in nothing but his boxers—and hugged himself as if he’d fall apart if he let go.

 

 _God almighty,_ it had taken all of Gabriel’s considerable willpower and scanter patience to not confront him, to ask where he went— _hell_ , to not simply get out of bed and lie down next to him. Though he wanted to act, his fears held him back, because Jack didn’t normally hide things from him. How many nights had they laid awake together after a hell day of treatments—talking about everything and anything and sharing almost all of their secrets? Gabriel had told Jack about his poor upbringing, the single mother that joined the army (like her father before her) to support them and left him and his three younger sisters in the care of their grandmother, the friends he lost to gang violence and police shootings when growing up, and the guilt he wrestled with over the loss of his unit a year ago, when the Omnic Crisis touched down on American soil and left him the sole survivor. Jack himself had confided to Gabriel about how he hid from his father in the hayloft of the barn, how he had been too nauseous to eat at the dinner table over his parents’ violent arguments, how he’d learned to hoard food as a child due to his mother’s negligence in feeding him, and how he’d hid his bisexuality from his family and backwater classmates to avoid violent retribution.

 

The point was that Jack had shared everything else with him, so it said a lot that he refused to tell Gabriel the truth about his weekend escapades. If he pried, Jack might push him away, and he’d lose his only friend and any chance to figure out what was going on. So he kept his mouth shut and bit his tongue and secretly waited up for him on Sunday nights, hoping that, after enough time, Jack would eventually open up to him on his own.

 

Nothing happened, though. The injuries got worse, and the showers took longer, and it only took five months for Gabriel to reach the end of his rope. There wasn’t anything special about that particular Friday night, but as Jack packed his bag for the weekend (in that sheepish, bashful, ashamed way of his that was so damn cute and infuriating in the same time), Gabriel suddenly realized that he just couldn’t let Jack walk out the door. One minute he was lying on his bed and reading a book, resigned and heart-sick over the whole damn mess, and the next he had thrown the book against the wall, sprung to his feet, and pinned Jack between his arms against the wall, demanding that he _just stop already._ Jack had tried to play dumb, but the frantic, cornered-animal look on his face gave him away, and Gabriel grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him and told him to “ _stop fucking lying to me already! You think I’m fucking stupid, pendejo?!”_ It was a moment he’d regret for the rest of his life, because he accidentally rammed Jack against the wall, and the look on his face made Gabriel Reyes (a presumably fucking intelligent human being) realize that being violent to a former abuse victim was one of the worst things he could possibly do, especially in that situation. So he immediately stepped back, took a few deep breaths, and resisted the urge to jump out the window and run away. Once Jack no longer looked like a deer in the headlights, he explained ( _very calmly,_ in his opinion) that he _hadn’t_ been asleep all those nights he crept back in, exhausted and miserable and on the brink of breaking, and that he couldn’t fathom why Jack was _doing_ that to himself—whatever ‘that’ was.

 

It was at that moment that Jack finally cracked.

 

Gabriel had initially thought that Jack was in some sort of abusive relationship, but no, it couldn’t be that simple—not with Jack fucking Morrison, the most complicated human being he’d ever met in his life. No, Jack Morrison was so determined to hurt himself that every weekend he went out and paid men to _sexually abuse him_. All Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday morning, he’d spend his hard-earned cash on cheap hotel rooms and monsters that would humiliate him, degrade him, berate him, beat him, and leave him once the money ran out. Jack wasn’t kinky in the slightest—he got not pleasure from his escapades and hated every moment of it—but that was exactly _why he did it._ He couldn’t cut himself, or burn himself, or overdose, so he got other people to fuck him raw and claim it was in the name of sexual pleasure.

 

 _Why?_ It was all Gabriel could say. _Why? Why? Why?_

 

 _Because it’s what I fucking deserve!_ Jack screamed as he slumped against the wall and gripped his hair in his hands. _Because I’m not good enough to love!_ His words sounded like they were strangling his throat. _Because I need to suffer for making everyone fucking miserable! If I was worth anything, then someone would fucking love me, but they don’t, Gabriel! They don’t! My parents don’t, my friends don’t, and **you don’t!**_

Gabriel Reyes fell to his knees, pulled a startled Jack Morrison into his arms, and kissed him ( _once, twice, three times_ ) with tear-salted lips.

 

 _I do._ His voice was wet and hoarse with aching, anguished affection. _I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, you fucking moron._

He kissed him again—whispered _sunbeam_ against his cheeks like a prayer—and Jack wept in relief and buried his face into his throat.

Jack shudder-sighing and nuzzling against his collarbone pulled Gabriel from his memories, and he looked down to see that the other man had stopped crying and seemed to be relaxing in his arms, a tired, sad, sappy smile on his face. It was an expression mirrored on Reaper’s own (because even if this was the most shitty reunion scenario ever, Jack was _here_ , they were _together_ , he could stop _pretending_ ), and he couldn’t resist bonking his forehead against the other man’s, making Soldier 76 jump slightly and peer up at him, blue eyes as exhausted as he looked.

 

“ Hey.” Gabriel muttered, shifting so that Jack would be more comfortably curled on his lap.

 

“ Hey.” Jack chuckled hollowly and limply looped his arms around Gabriel’s waist. “ Guess I just keep fucking everything up, don’t I?”

 

Reaper knew he wasn’t just referring to falling back into self-harm. “ _Cristo,_ Jack, you didn’t fuck everything up. Honest to God.” He rested his chin on the top of Jack’s head and sighed, resigned and regretful. “ You did shit wrong, yeah, but you did a lot more shit right. If anyone fucked up, it was me.”

 

“ You were right about a lot of things too, Gabi; you were right about Talon taking over the UN and Overwatch, you were right about the misuse of Blackwatch, you were right about me being blind to it all…”

 

“ Then we both fucked up in different ways, okay?” Reaper’s grumble left no room for argument. “Talon and the UN were the ones that set all our problems into motion, and then when they realized we were wising up, they finished the job themselves—fucking megalomaniacs.” He sighed again. “ Look, my point is that you weren’t the only damn one at fault, and it wasn’t even really your fault in the end, so just…stop this. It’s not worth beating yourself up over.”

 

Jack was silent, and if it hadn’t been for the hand lazily trailing up and down his spine, Gabriel would have assumed he’d fallen asleep.

 

“ I thought you hated me.” His whisper was hoarse and wet, and his words punched Gabriel in the gut.

 

“ No, _bello_ …” For someone that just had a mini-speech about how it was useless to beat one’s self up over events you couldn’t change, he sure was mentally kicking himself in the spleen over his actions as Reaper. “ I couldn’t hate you. It would have made it easier if I had—infiltrating Talon, hunting down and murdering all those traitors from Overwatch and the UN that screwed us over, being alone—but the only thing I could hate was…” He swallowed. “ How much I loved you. How I couldn’t let you go.”

 

“ I…” Jack swallowed and blinked wetly, a few new tears sliding down his sticky cheeks. “ I thought, maybe, that you were acting…playing the bad guy…when I met you in Egypt, and you shot me, you did it on some sort of ‘stun’ setting, didn’t you? If you’d really wanted to kill me, you would’ve shot out my kidneys and lower back—crippled me for good. You didn’t, and you didn’t hurt Ana, either.”

 

“ You always were pretty observant when you bothered to pull your head out of your ass.” Gabriel forced his heart out of his throat and moved to kiss Jack on the temple—an action that made the younger soldier shudder and press closer. “ If you knew that, though, then why did you think I hated you? If you knew that shot to your back was bullshit, then you must’ve known my words were bullshit, too.”

 

Silence.

 

“ Because I _did_ leave you. Because when I woke up in the medical bay and they told me you were dead, I believed them. Because I thought I got you killed. Because you tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen until it was too late.” Jack screwed his eyes shut and whimpered.

 

“ Because if I were you, I’d hate me, too.”

 

Ripping his own heart out of his chest would have hurt Gabriel less in that moment.

 

“ No more of that, Jack.” Reaper was pretty damn impressed that he managed to reduce his anguish to a raspy voice. Sure, he felt like cursing himself to every God in existence, but that wouldn’t help Jack in the slightest, and in all honesty, it wouldn’t help him, either. He’d learned from an early age that the best way to handle guilt was to use it to grow and change—to atone as much as he could (hell, said conviction was what drove him to avenge Overwatch in the first place). The only thing that would do any good in his current situation would be to just _stop fucking pretending already_ and love his sunbeam the way he should’ve been doing for the past six fucking years—so, by God, that’s what he was going to do. “ I love you more than life, and I always have, and I would’ve thought I was dead, too, okay?”

 

“…okay.” Soldier 76’s voice was more doubtful than hopeful, but he seemed far too tired to argue, so he settled for nuzzling into the dark palm that had reached to cup his face. “ How did you even know I was here, Gabo? Don’t tell me you followed me…”

 

“ Actually, a Talon agent spotted you coming into the hotel; he didn’t live to tell anyone else, though.” Gabriel moved his hand from Jack’s face to his right side, frowning at the feel and sight of ribs jutting out of pale, bruised skin. “ You haven’t been eating enough, have you?”

 

Jack placed a hand over Gabriel’s. “ Haven’t had an much of an appetite since the explosion. I try, but…” He shrugged. “ I dunno…it’s harder to remember, being on the run and all…”

 

“ I can get that.” It wasn’t a _good_ thing, by any means, but it was an understandable reason; it wasn’t the first time that a disordered schedule plus disordered eating equaled disaster for Jack. “ We’ll have to go and get some proper food tomorrow. I may try to force a can of soup down your throat tonight, though.”

 

“ Soup? From where?”

 

“ From my safe house, _pendejo_.” Gabriel rolled his eyes and lightly smacked his palm against Jack’s forehead. “ If you think I’m just going to up leave you here, you’ve got another thing coming, ‘cause we’re blowing this joint.”

 

Jack’s expression morphed from exasperated fondness to disbelief in less than a second. “ You mean…we’re leaving. Together.”

 

“ Yep. Just you, me, and a shitty mattress; we’ve stayed in worse places—trust me.”

 

“ But what…what happens after, Gabriel?”

 

The tentative hope in Jack’s eyes made the mercenary’s heart twist. “ Well, _cari_ _ño,_ that’s up to you. But what _I_ want…” Gabriel blinked and licked his lips nervously before moving to kiss Jack, and the other eagerly rose to meet him; the kiss itself was short, sweet, and the best thing Gabriel had felt on his rotting skin in six years.

 

“ Let’s face it, Jack,” his voice was a whisper when they parted, “we both fall to pieces without each other, and it’s too late to change that now. I think six years is more than enough time being lost without each other, don’t you?”

 

“ I…Gabi…” Jack gripped the shoulders of the other man’s shirt with trembling hands and screwed his eyes shut, and _oh,_ that smile—wet and radiant and everything that made Gabriel fall in love with him all those years ago in basic. “ Yes, yes, _please._ I’m so _tired_ , Gabi…I missed you _so much…_ I didn’t want to do this without you…”

 

“ You don’t have to…ever again. And I don’t either.” In another life, Gabriel would have been ashamed of the shakiness of his voice—a shudder that spread into his fingertips and rattled his bones—but, in his opinion, _fuck_ that old life, because it’s what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. With Jack—and _only_ Jack—he could be weak, uncertain, unstable—all the things he couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t be around anyone else. As much as Jack needed a stable shoulder to lean on, like hell was Reaper going to hide how much he had missed him, longed for him, _needed_ him—how his foundations had been crumbling for six long years without his lover to help shore them up. The man known as Soldier 76 was the only one he trusted to handle him with care at his most fragile, and Christ Almighty, he was too goddamn old and done to deny it anymore. “ You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s the way it’s going to be until we’re dead for good, okay?”

 

Jack reached up to stroke Gabriel’s cheek, and the touch of those cool fingers against his mottled skin did more to stitch Gabriel’s heart back together than Angela’s nanites ever could. “ You’re mine…and I’m yours.”

 

“ Yeah.” Gabriel smiled as those white fingers trailed across his lips. “ Yeah. That’s exactly right. The way it should’ve been all along.”

 

A peaceful quiet settled over the pair, and both men were content to sit in companionable silence for several minutes, neither of them seeming to care about being on the floor or Jack’s state of undress. Gabriel rested his chin on top of Jack’s head, humming softly and taking in the familiar smell of his now-white hair, and Jack nuzzled into the concave curve of his neck, cold fingers outlining every patch of bare muscle and bone on Gabriel’s face, the flex armor sleeves covering his arms, the dips of the spaces between his sturdy fingers, the ridges of the nails bitten to the quick—as if he were a cartographer sketching changes onto a map of well-traveled terrain. In another time and place, Gabriel would’ve been content to sit there for hours, even if his legs were starting to get cramped. Jack was thin, though, and worryingly clammy, and they were sitting in a hotel room with memories best left behind; as much as he hated to break the spell, Reaper knew that some things were better saved for later.

 

“ Hey, Jack.” On a whim, Gabriel poked the tip of Jack’s nose, and he couldn’t help but be delighted at the sneeze and annoyed huff it produced. “ We should probably get going. Do you want to shower here or at my place?”

 

Jack hummed thoughtfully, tracing the bridge between Gabriel’s right thumb and index finger absentmindedly. “ I should probably wash off here. Brought a towel and a clean change of clothes.”

 

“ Your gun and mask?”

 

“ All with me; can’t risk leaving them somewhere, you know?” Jack pointed backwards under the bed, and Gabriel finally noticed the large blue duffel bag shoved underneath. “ It’s not like I can make a new heavy pulse rifle out of nanites, unlike _someone_ I know.”

 

“ Fuck you; you try reloading shotguns in the middle of a firefight and tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing.” Gabriel groused, finally (reluctantly) detaching himself from Jack to help him to his feet. His lover was slow to rise, and Gabriel had to catch him when he tipped forward the moment he stood up straight, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “ You okay, sunbeam?”

 

“ Yeah...just a little unsteady. I’m usually a bit of a klutz after nights like these.” Despite the matter-of-fact nature of his tone, Jack was quick to close his eyes and lean his forehead against Gabriel’s chest to steady himself, the mercenary gripping his waist in return. “ Doesn’t help that I’m sore as hell.”

 

Gabriel cursed under his breath and frantically scanned Jack’s legs for any sign of blood—dripping or dried. The only signs of trouble were old scars, though, and he sighed out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “ How bad is it? Should we take you to a doctor?”

 

“ Christ, Gabo, calm down; they didn’t pump all those drugs into us for nothing.” The former strike commander rolled his eyes and smacked his head into Gabriel’s chest. “ I’m gonna be limping for a bit, but the worst of it’s already healed over; guess talking to you distracted me from the burn of it.”

 

“ And you were the one that bitched the most about the injections. How things change…” The comment earned Gabriel another headbutt. “ Stop being a brat, Jack; you’re way too old for that shit.” With a chuckle, Gabriel moved to stand next to Jack, looping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side. “ Come on, old man; the sooner you shower, the sooner we can get the fuck out of here.”

 

Jack nodded wearily—clearly exhausted to the marrow—and sagged against Gabriel’s side, letting himself be led across the room and to the bathroom door without an ounce of griping, a true testament to his weariness. “ My clothes are in my bag. Could you…?”

 

Gabriel nodded and let Jack lean against the doorway of the bathroom. He was almost tempted to see if he could join him in the shower (for both simple closeness to confirm if Jack was really healing up okay), and he knew Jack would jump on the idea if he brought it up; however, an idea suddenly struck him, and a quick glance at the clock confirmed it wasn’t nearly late enough for Sombra to be asleep. “ I’ll take care of it; now hurry up and get in there, will you? I’ve got to make a quick phone call.”

 

“ A _phone call_? With _who_?”

 

“ An associate named Sombra. It’s about a job she offered me this morning.”

 

“ Sombra? That hacker from Talon? You’re not selling me out already, are you?” Though Jack attempted a joking, nonchalant tone, Gabriel could see his trademark gnawing of his inner cheek in worry, and the guilt in his eyes over even doubting Gabriel for a second—after all the older man had put him through—was like a hot poker plunging into his gut. After what happened during the Fall and the deception of the past six years, Gabriel had honestly not expected Jack to trust him as readily as he once had, and he was more than willing to do anything in his power to earn it back. Leave it to Jack Morrison to feel like the bad guy for having reasonable doubts about his intentions.

 

“ Sombra’s an independent agent, just like me; we just happen to be pursuing similar goals in regards to Talon. If you’re so worried about it, then leave the door open and I’ll put it on speakerphone.” Reaper made a show out of rolling his eyes and flicking Jack in the forehead; he hoped that the nanomachine-and-dead-cell smoke now wafting from his body didn’t betray his inner turmoil. “ It’s not like it’s something top-fucking-secret. Just don’t sing in the shower or try to talk to me and no one will be the wiser.”

 

“ She might hear the water, though.”

 

“ Then I’ll tell her I’m taking a fucking bath or doing laundry or something, _God,_ you worry too much.” Gabriel pulled out his phone with one hand and shoved Jack into the bathroom with the other. “ Now get in there before you fucking keel over.”

 

“ Gee, Gabo, I love you too.” Jack huffed dramatically in mock annoyance, but the soft smile on his lips destroyed the illusion, and he quickly pecked Gabriel on the cheek before limping into the bathroom and flicking on the lights, leaving him standing there like a with a hand on his cheek and a goofy smile on his face. _Christ,_ even after thirty-some years and literally dying, he was still utterly wrecked over that man. Guess he’d just live and die in the honeymoon phase, and really, it was the opposite of the problem.

 

Jack was in the shower by the time Gabriel came back with a change of clothes and a towel (and after trying his damndest to not rummage through Jack’s bag out of curiosity and mostly succeeding). After setting them on the sink, he tapped on the glass shower door—receiving a muffled “thanks” in return—before moving to lean on the outside doorframe. As promised, he left the bathroom door open, and he turned the volume up to maximum on his speakerphone setting before punching in the familiar number.

 

“ Sombra here.” It only took three rings for the hacker to pick up, though she sounded considerably more disgruntled than usual.

 

“ Hey, it’s me.”

 

“Reaper. Only you would call me this late at night.” Though she still sounded annoyed, Sombra was quickly slipping back into her droll and professional tone; it helped that she and Widowmaker were the only two people in Talon that actually liked him. “ You’re lucky I just got into bed.”

 

“ You _sleep_? I just thought you were powered entirely on salt and snark.” Sombra groaned, thwumping her head against something soft, and he could hear Jack’s snicker from the other room.

 

“ And I thought you slept in a coffin, you overdramatic, egotistical hack.” Another short laugh from the other room, and Gabriel shot a pointed look at the closed shower door before turning his attention back to the call. “ Look, as much as I enjoy our _thrilling_ conversations, I really was about to go to sleep, so whatever you have to say, make it quick.”

 

“ Fine. You know that surveillance job in Dorado you offered me this morning?”

 

“ Yeah, the one you turned down.”

 

“ I’ve changed my mind—I’ll take it.”

 

Jack stilled in the shower, and Gabriel couldn’t help but smirk, turning his head to look at the steamed-up glass door.

 

Even Sombra sounded surprised, though for different reasons than Jack. “ Wait, really? I thought you said, and I quote, ‘I’m a mercenary, I kill people and steal shit, not sit on my ass all day’.”

 

Gabriel whistled appreciatively, though with only half a lower lip, it sounded a little hollow. “ Wow, you literally remembered that word for word. I’m impressed.”

 

“ Reaper, it is _two in the morning._ ”

 

“ Jesus, calm down! I just called to tell you that I reconsidered. Did you offer it to someone else?”

 

“ No, no, it’s still available, if you want it.” A long-suffering sigh. “ Seriously, though, you’re right about the job being boring and devoid of action. I only offered you the job because the higher-ups thought you’d blend in better being Latinx. What made you change your mind?”

 

“ Oh, I dunno, I was thinking it might be nice to take a vacation; a week of spying and data-mining LumériCo during the day and doing whatever the fuck I want at night.” The shower shut of almost immediately behind him as soon as he said the ‘magic word’, and Gabriel’s smirk grew at the sound of the water shutting off and the shower door opening, knowing that there was a white-haired, wet head peeking out at him. “ Plus, Dorado’s a nice city; the Festival de la Luz is coming up, and I’ve always wanted to go.” He could practically hear Jack’s eyes widening to bright blue saucers.

 

“ I didn’t know you were into things like that.”

 

“ Things like ‘what’?” The shower door slid open further, and Gabriel could hear wet feet limping over to the sink.

 

“ Oh, I don’t know. Festivals. Parties. Socialization. Doing anything in a group of people that isn’t glaring or standing in the corner looking as intimidating and unapproachable as possible.”

 

Jack was practically choking from stifled laughter.

 

“ First off, fuck you too; second off, I didn’t say I’d be in the _thick_ of it. Maybe I wanted to watch from the rooftop or the distance or something. Maybe it’s been ages since I’ve had decent Mexican food and I just want to go for the food stalls. Maybe it’s none of your business what I plan to do there.” _Maybe Jack always wanted to go to the festival with me, and I put it off as long as I possibly could because I’m introverted and have crippling social anxiety, and it was too late by the time I got up the nerve to ask him because the headquarters blew up on us._

 

“ Now _you’re_ the one being testy.” Sombra grumbled, but he didn’t need to be in her bedroom to see the quirk on her lips. “ Fine, the job’s yours, if you really want it. I’ll make arrangements with our contacts in Dorado. How soon can you get on a plane?”

 

“ Tonight, if I can.” He could hear Jack (slowly, gingerly) putting on his clothes behind him. “ Don’t worry about booking me a flight; just be sure I have a place to stay when I get there.”

 

“ Hmmm.” Reaper could hear the frantic clicking of keys on the other end of the line. “ Well, don’t expect me to get you a hotel room, since everything’s booked out for the festival months in advance. We do have a safe-house on the outskirts of town, though.”

 

“ Does it have a big bed?”

 

A pause in the clicking. “ Uh…yes, I think it does. Why?”

 

“ Just asking. No room to move in small beds.” Of course, the real reason was the man that just walked up behind him, looped his arms around his waist, and rested his chin on his shoulder, but there was no need for Sombra to know that.

 

“ I see...” Sombra sounded slightly wary, but Gabriel knew that she was a woman of restraint and reserve, so he wasn’t surprised when she asked no further questions. “ Well, go ahead and get on a flight when you can. Text me when you touch down and I’ll give you the details. Just…try to time it so it’s at least eight hours from now, okay?”

 

“ Yeah, you don’t have to worry about that; I have things to do.” Jack nuzzled into the crook of his neck and Gabriel was sure he was going to die. “ Thanks, Sombra; go get some rest.”

 

“ You should be this nice more often; you might actually become a tolerable person.” Sombra, being Sombra, couldn’t resist one last quip before hanging up the phone. Gabriel snorted, shoved his phone in his pants pocket, and turned in Jack’s hold to face him; the other man was wearing a navy-blue hoodie and jeans and looked for all the world like a contemplative cat.

 

“ How did you know I was investigating LumériCo?”

 

Gabriel chose a half-truth. “ Because you were in the news, _gringo_.”

 

“ I was? Dorado’s a pretty small town; no one really gave a damn about it until the power company set up its base there. Why would that sort of thing be in the news?”

 

“ Jack, for Christ’s sake, you’re a notorious vigilante and beat a gang member to death with a piñata. If you think that’s not going to make the front page of Atlas News then you’re denser than I thought.” Reaper couldn’t resist flicking his boyfriend in the forehead; the way he always scrunched up his forehead and glared in annoyance was just too damn cute, and even now Jack didn’t disappoint. “ Leave it to you to fight an entire gang of arms smugglers and then fuck up the endgame by saving a little girl and her coin purse.”

 

“ What can I say?” Jack replied dryly. “ Old habits die hard, I guess. But last time I checked, Los Muertos and LumériCo were two entirely different things. Well, maybe not, but I had to get out of town before I could look into it.” He sighed and released Gabriel to scrub at his face with the heels of his palms. “ So you still haven’t answered my question.”

 

Gabriel opened his mouth—

 

_Because I was on a hit in Mexico City and heard rumors of the infamous Soldier 76 prowling around Dorado, and I couldn’t resist the urge to see for myself. Not to confront you or attack you, but to just…see you: to see if you were holding up okay; to see if you got hurt; to see if you’d really become the ruthless hard-ass you were pretending to be for the public and failing; to see if I could get the damn ache in my chest to go away for two seconds (it couldn’t, it just got worse, because I was lying to myself more than I was lying to you)._

_And I was so happy, so proud to see that—while you have become more bitter and sadder, and really, who can blame you—you were still Jack Morrison, and you still chose helping innocents over doing your job. I fell in love with you all over again when you gave that girl her wallet back and followed her to make sure she got home safe, even though blood was dripping from your side and you were in agony, because it’s **you** Jack—it’s always been you for me. I should’ve gone to you then—should’ve helped you hobble to wherever you were hiding out—but I ran, because you looked like you were doing fine without me, and—believe it or not—I was scared of you hating me, too._

_I was wrong. You weren’t doing fine, and you were falling apart right in front of me, and I didn’t even notice it because I was too busy being a goddamn coward. Did you go and hire someone to fuck you dry and raw while slapping you across the face and calling you a sad, dirty slut while you were in Dorado? Hell, did you do it that night after I ran away, with your gaping wound rubbing against the bed or floor and adding to your misery, because even though you saved a little girl’s life and gave her hope, you still hated yourself for being unable to save Overwatch? To save Ana and Gerard and Amélie? To save me and our relationship?_

_I’m sorry, Jack, and I know you think I don’t need to say it, but I do. I’m sorry, I love you so fucking much, I’m **sorry** —_

“ Because it’s you, Jack.” Gabriel couldn’t resist kissing him, again, and then again, and Jack responded to his guilty lips like a wilting flower being fed sunlight and water. “ You try to play the gung-ho, take-no-prisoners vigilante, but you still refuse to kill criminals unless you have to, and you still go out of your way to help and protect civilians, and you still can’t stand injustice. Hell, what’s more potentially unjust than LumériCo: a company rumored to be forcing people out of Dorado to make more room for its power plant, that shuts down any attempt at unionization through scare tactics, that’s rumored to bribe its way out of environmental regulations, and whose critics mysteriously end up dead left and right? That shit has ‘ Jack Morrison getting up all in arms and running in like a moron’ written all over it.”

 

“ You’re in top form today, aren’t you?” The needles in his gut were replaced with warmth at the sight of Jack’s nostalgic smile. “ Guilty as charged, though; guess I suck at being a hard-ass just like you suck being a bad guy.”

 

“ Oh come on, Jack; if I’m going to pretend to be an evil, megalomaniacal, revenge-driven, bitter brown guy that hates everyone he really doesn’t, I need to at _least_ have a little fun with it.”

  
“ There’s ‘a little fun’, and then there’s ‘laughing like a classic cartoon villain and sounding like a teenager’s angsty poetry notebook.’ How does Talon take you seriously?”

 

“ They don’t. Well, let me rephrase that.” Gabriel reluctantly tore himself away from Jack and moved back to the bed. “ They take my fucked-up-nanomachine abilities seriously; they take my ability to kill seriously; they take my zeal for hunting down old Overwatch members seriously. But my whole ‘Hot Topic Serial Killer’ shtick? Nah.” He glanced at the stains on the bed, grit his teeth, and focused instead on grabbing the duffel bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “ They think I’m ridiculous. I’m not fucking blind, Jack; I can see how they roll their eyes when I think they’re not looking. That’s the beauty of it all. They take me seriously in all the right ways and look the other way in all the right ways. I can do a lot of shit they turn a blind eye to just because they don’t think I give a fuck or am capable of doing it. You know, shit like trying to wean Widowmaker off those fucking psych meds and heart pills they have her on, and how Sombra and I can basically fucking data-mine them to our heart’s content as long as we don’t go too deep.”

 

Soldier 76’s face fell at the mention of the French sniper. “Amélie…they did something to her, didn’t they?”

 

“ You really think she’d willingly kill Gerard, Jack?” Gabriel dissolved his discarded coat, gloves, mask and absorbed the nanites back into his body before walking back to Jack. “ They brainwashed her—did a bunch of shit we didn’t even think was medically or psychologically possible. She never had a chance to resist, Jack; she was a ballet dancer, not a Blackwatch agent. They turned her into a sniper and fucked with her body. She’s not blue for the hell of it, you know; they pump her full of heart drugs and make it beat so slow that her entire fucking body’s starved of oxygen. Combine that with all the psych meds and reconditioning, and she’s basically trapped in a body and brain she has no power over.”

 

“ Christ. I had no idea…” Gabriel opened his arm, and Jack willingly went under it, slotting himself against Gabriel’s side with a sigh. “ We should’ve looked her over better when we got her back from Talon. Maybe we could’ve caught something…seen something was wrong before it was too late…”

 

“ That bitch doctor did a full exam, physical and psych, remember?” Gabriel scowled at the memory of Angela Ziegler and Jack wisely kept quiet. “ She may use humans as her own personal guinea pigs, but she’s good at what she does; if she couldn’t find anything wrong with Amélie, then no one could’ve.” With that, he led them out of the room and into the dingy, empty hallway, the door closing behind them with a surprisingly satisfying click. “ Anyways, she’s one of the reasons I have to be on good terms with Talon; I’m not leaving without her.”

 

“ And Sombra?”

 

“ She’s a whole ‘nother story. A long one.” Gabriel sighed and shook his head. “ Look, I’m tired, you’re even _more_ tired, so let’s just focus on getting out of here and starting our goddamn vacation, okay?”

 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “ Vacation?”

 

“ In my opinion, yes.” A blast of warm, humid air hit them as they exited the hotel proper. “ A whole month of investigating LumériCo; I get to make money during the day, you get to hunt all the Los Muertos members you want, we can visit that damn festival you were so obsessed with, and then we can spend the rest of the time just focusing on…” Reaper struggled for words before shrugging in defeat. “ I dunno. Us. What happened. What we are now. What happened in there. I don’t fucking know.”

 

“ I get it.” Jack smiled that soft, sappy smile again, and really, he needed to stop that before Gabriel’s heart popped. “ We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

 

“ Christ, do we ever.”

 

Luck must have truly been with Gabriel that day, because he managed to book tickets on the last flight out of the regional airport that ‘night’, and one short cab ride and an altercation with a sassy ticket seller later found them on a near-empty plane headed for the closest international airport, where’d they get on a flight to Mexico City before taking yet another regional connection to Dorado. The cabin was empty save for an elderly couple sitting in the very front, providing quiet and a sense of privacy that allowed Jack to fall asleep almost instantly, head pillowed on Gabriel’s shoulder and breath coming out in little damp puffs against the exposed skin of his neck. Reaper found himself unable to sleep, so he simply watched the city lights outside of his window instead, stroking Jack’s hair absentmindedly and wondering just what the hell they were going to do next.

 

There was a lot of ground to cover between them—the corruption in Overwatch, the Zurich explosion, the six years spent apart and at each other’s throats—and he knew that love, even if it was fucking amazing and a huge help, would never be enough to fix his or Jack’s issues. He remembered the tentative early days of their relationship back in the SEP: how he had to practically twist Jack’s arm to get him to talk about the feelings he’d prefer to bottle up; how he had to keep reassuring him that he was wonderful and worth loving, even though at times he just wanted to shake him until his teeth fell out for not getting the idea that he was an absolute treasure through his thick Indiana skull; how he’d look like an asshole in the mess hall because he kept forcing Jack to eat when he knew all he wanted to do was hide; hell, how he would catch Jack trying to sneak out of base on weekends and getting so angry that Jack was terrified he was going to leave him, thinking that Gabriel was pissed off about his ‘infidelity’ and not about his own inability to reach his boyfriend through his self-loathing.

 

Yes, there was no doubt that those weeks were some of the darkest days of Gabriel’s life, but _Dios mio,_ how they’d been worth it in the end; nothing in his life had felt better than watching Jack finish a full plate without coaxing, and he had come close to crying in happiness when Jack started seeing a base psychiatrist on his own volition. When they’d finally had sex (which had taken a while to get to, because they both knew that having sex too early would make things worse instead of better, myths about ‘healing cocks’ be damned), it was clumsy as fuck and resulted in them falling off the bed several times, but Gabriel knew the moment Jack broke into giddy laughter after they were finished that he wanted to marry him one day. He’d never gotten around to asking, because there were wars, and then there was Overwatch, and then there was the Fall, but now…

 

Jack may have tripped and been swallowed back by the darkness that had been chasing him, but this time Gabriel knew how to help pull him out, and just because they were both different men than they had been six years ago didn’t mean that their relationship couldn’t be even _better_ this time around—that _they_ couldn’t be better in the end. All the stress and strain and anger and tears inevitably coming in the next few days would be as worthwhile then as they had been in the beginning, because now they both knew what awaited them at the finish line, and the happiness they’d find with each other would be worth every. goddamn. second.

 

Besides, Gabriel had kept the rings he’d bought so long ago; they hung on a chain around his neck as they had for ten years, tucked protectively under his shirt, and he was sure that while many things had changed about Jack since then, the size of his fingers hadn’t. Maybe, just maybe, when they climbed out of this valley and onto the hill…

 

Reaper found himself pulled from his thoughts by a sudden wetness blooming on his shoulder, and he looked down to see that Jack was awake and crying silently, gripping the cuff of Gabriel’s shirtsleeve like he wanted to rip it off. “ Jack? What’s wrong, sunbeam?”

 

“ Gabriel…” Soldier 76 squeezed his eyes closed and bit his lip. “ Will you promise me something?”

 

“ Anything.”

 

“ If this is a dream…” The vigilante moved to hug Gabriel with a grip strong enough to bruise—as if he’d be ripped away from him if he didn’t hold on for dear life. “If I’m still in that hotel room and I’m dreaming this is happening…promise me that you won’t let me wake up.” He smiled, and it was so damn full of hope and happiness and _sunlight_ that Gabriel forgot to breathe. “ I don’t want to wake up; I’d rather die in my sleep.”

 

Gabriel stiffened, choked, and finally— _finally_ —gave up and let the tears fall.

 

“ _Of course._ ” The same hope in Jack’s smile bloomed in his chest, and as he sobbed and nosed into Jack’s white hair, he could feel the couple in the front row turning around and staring, but he gave absolutely no fucks anymore. “ But only if you do the same for me if it turns out I’m the one dreaming. _Please._ ”

 

Gabriel could feel Jack’s joy deep in his marrow, and for the first time in six long years, he felt like he was breathing. “ I can do that, Gabi. I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> So there was this prompt on the kink-meme that was basically "Soldier 76 uses sex as a form of self-harm and his chosen romantic partner gives him healing sex and makes it all better", and I basically took the interesting part (i.e. the idea of using sex as self-harm and the idea of 76 having shit self-esteem) and left out all the sex stuff. Throw in all of my headcanons ever and my not very low-key feelings about how much 'Old Soldiers' sucked (art, plot, and logic-wise), add a dash of a prologue to a fic series I have in the works, staple on a title butchered from song lyrics, and you get...whatever this is.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it all the same!


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